A/N: Written for the "fall colors" prompt provided by Ficlet Fridays and the Fall Fic Fest over on Tumblr.

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Fall Fic Fest

Part I: Change

Cold, the Doctor decides, is a very unpleasant feeling. He felt it on the beach, back in Norway, but only briefly before he and Rose were whisked away at Jackie's behest to the zeppelin Pete had procured for them. Now, as they disembark onto the lush green grass of the Tyler estate (at least that's what their pilot called it and Jackie smiled with no small amount of pride), the Doctor can't help but recoil at the brisk breeze that sweeps through his thin blue suit and the soles of his trainers which he bounces on to warm himself.

Beside him, Rose is zipping up her leather jacket and he wishes he had his overcoat to offer her. He wonders if she wants that, too. He wonders if he should offer her this jacket or if that would be foisting this new self on her. (Also, he's cold.) He wonders if he's overanalyzing things.

As always, Rose makes the first move. Taking his hand firmly in hers and gives it a squeeze.

"How long were we gone for?" asks Rose and, on instinct, the Doctor reaches out for his time sense - he can tell her down to the last millisecond . . . well, down to the last yoctosecond, but that can cost them valuable adventure-having time - and is shocked at the emptiness he finds where that spot should be, more disconcerting even than the cold.

"Only a couple days," answers Pete. With difficulty, due to the toddler clinging to one leg, he crosses the yard to envelop his wife and daughter in a hug. The Doctor releases Rose's hand as if burnt, standing awkwardly on the sidelines, shifting from foot to foot to stay warm.

"Glad to see you've gotten more accurate," says Jackie, nodding at him. "Won't have you two swanning off somewhere in that new spaceship and only showing up for Christmas and Easter, I won't."

"We didn't do that before, Mum. Of course the Doctor and I'll-" glancing up at him, inviting him to share in her exasperation, she notices his self-insulating stance. "Are you cold?"

"No," he lies badly.

"Come on, let's go inside," she reaches for his hand again, "we'll have some tea and watch bad telly."

And it's so kind when he hates what he to her, so understanding when he can't accept himself, so Rose when he doesn't even have a bloody coat to give her that the Doctor can't stand it.

"I'm fine, Rose. Just a bit stiff. Bit sore. From the zeppelin ride. I'm just gonna go stretch out these muscles. Take a walk."

Before she can ask to come along, he's turned his back, heading towards the cluster of trees where he and Rose hid last time they were here. They're turning red and gold now, side-by-side with perennial hedgehog- and rabbit-shaped topiaries, and a path that wends through it all. Tempted to plunge into the tiny copse without heed for direction, the Doctor reluctantly takes it. He isn't looking to hide from Rose, only from himself - what his old self did, what his new self isn't, and how he can possibly make Rose Tyler happy with all this between them.

"Here, put this on." Rose shoves something dark and puffy into his hands, a jacket filled with some sort of down. Not his old coat by any means, but he doesn't think to disobey. Grateful warmth travels down his stiff limbs as he slips it on over his shoulders.

Lengthening her stride, Rose keeps pace with him.

"We had a long summer last year. Went from scalding to freezing like that."

The Doctor nods, wondering if they are seriously discussing the weather right now. Or Rose discussing. Him listening.

"Hardly even got to see the leaves turn," she says. "I missed that. There's not as many fumes 'round here, either. You can see all the colours. 'S beautiful."

The Doctor knows where this is going. Still, he says it anyway. "They're dying."

"They're changing," says Rose. "The tree's still there, it's just - got another chance. If it wants."

"It wants." The words can't stumble off his tongue quickly enough. "But what if, erm . . . the tree doesn't change in the way you expect? What if, at its heart, it's really just some gnarled, thorny weed with - with poisonous suckers and . . ."

Rose raises her eyebrows. "You have suckers?"

Reluctantly, the Doctor cracks a smile. Rose smiles back, a tongue-touched one just for him.

They walk together under the falling leaves, circling back home.